TMNT Advent Extravaganza
by The Light of Reason
Summary: I found the list from tumblr for the Advent Challenge and gave in to the peer pressure. Please enjoy a Turtles' Christmas! Chapter 22: Rest & Love. Master Splinter observes his sons. Now Complete!
1. Snowing

_Disclaimer: I do not own the TMNT, they are the property of…Nickelodean, is it? I have trouble keeping up with the changes in ownership.  
This is based on the new 2012 series. It's my first try at writing for this group, so I hope you enjoy it! I saw the tumblr challenge on Drusilla52's story _December Advent Fun!_ and decided to join in the madness. It's going to be wonderful  
…well, at least for me _:D

Snowing

Snow cascaded lightly from the inky black blanket of sky overhead, the clouds blotting out the stars. The park was quiet, save for a few teenage voices muted by the cotton covered ground.

"Hurry up, guys, I'm freezing my shell off!" Mikey whined past a lump of snow on his plastron.

"Quiet, you!" Raph growled as he slapped another handful of snow on the expanding heap upon his brother's shell.

At the moment, Mikey was lying flat on his back while Raph, Leo and Don covered him in snow—at Mikey's insistence, of course. He had mentioned seeing something like it on television and, curiosity goaded, had begged them to bury him. When Donatello had tried to explain that what Mikey had actually seen was someone being buried in the sand at the beach, Raph had cut him off, humouring the little sucker. Clearly, Raph was still miffed that Mikey had nailed him in the back of the head with a snowball.

"Seriously, how do humans do this? I can't feel my toes!" Mikey complained, trying to wiggle them beneath the heavy blanket of snow.

"Maybe we should start digging him out," Leo suggested, pausing with a clump of snow in his hand above Mikey's torso.

"Nah, he likes it!" Raph brushed off Leo's concerns, building up the barrier of snow around Mikey's tuque covered head.

"Leo makes a point," Don concurred, "We _are_ coldblooded; it will take some time to warm him up again. He could lose some toes if he stays in there too long."

"That does it; I'm getting out of here!" Mikey cried, concerned for the state of his precious toes. He lifted his head and attempted to sit up, but the snow wouldn't budge. Mikey lurched forward again, grunting with the effort. Still nothing.

"Uh, guys? I think I'm stuck!" Mikey said warily, squirming under the heavy burden of snow. And it was true; the once harmless pile of snow had hardened due to the packing, forming an icy casket around Mikey.

The three older brothers exchanged looks, making no move to help the struggling Michelangelo. They had predicted this would happen and were reluctant to release their brother; at least, until they had a little fun first.

Raphael was the first to speak, stretching dramatically and drawling, "Well, it's gettin' late. See ya in the morning, Mikey!"

"Wait! Don't leave me here!" Mikey wailed as his three elder brothers dashed off through the snowdrifts, rounding a small grove of trees. Once hidden from view, they collapsed into silent heaves of laughter, covering their mouths to hold in their delighted hoots and sniggers.

Between giggles, Don wondered, "How long – should we – leave him like that?"

Raph cocked his head toward where Mikey was shrieking like a banshee on the opposite side of the small clump of trees. Following a few seconds of contemplation, he suggested, "I dunno, ten minutes?"

"I'LL BE REINDEER FOOD BY MORNING!" Mikey howled and Don had to bite down hard on the heel of his palm to choke back his cackle of laughter.

Leo, doubled over and gasping for breath, relented, "Maybe just five more minutes."

Snow cascaded lightly from the inky black blanket of sky overhead, the clouds blotting out the stars. The park was quiet, save for the screeches of terror from a distressed Mikey and the stifled guffaws of his brothers.

_Oh, Mikey…  
I reeeeaaallly loved writing for the turtles as younger teens. They're all so cute!  
So, quick story about my experience with the new series of TMNT: Watched the first two minutes of the first episode, hated the voices and promptly turned it off. Four days ago, watched a new episode and fell in love with the cuteness. I love Don's constant scheming to get April to like him, Mikey's naiveté, Raph's lighter sense of humour and Leo's all around nerdy-ness _XD


	2. Mistletoe

_Disclaimer: Nope, don't own any turtles. Sorry!  
Here is entry number three for the Advent Challenge. Considering I came up with three in one day, they aren't too bad. I apologize for any errors, they are a result of not reading this piece fifty times like I should have. I am also aware that I am doing them out of order, but for the life of me I can't think of one for Candy Canes! Once my exams are done, I'll have a bit more time. Until then, content yourselves with Mistletoe _:) _  
Enjoy!_

Mistletoe

The month leading up to Christmas was extremely relaxing, in Leo's opinion. Training sessions were less rigorous, fewer family feuds broke out, and the general populace above ground was in good spirits. The holidays brought serenity; however, sometimes Leo worried that the lack of disturbances topside and the more lenient training sessions left he and his brothers too much downtime.

After all, an idle mind is bound for trouble.

As he passed through the living area with intentions to brew a soothing mug of tea, something caught Leo's attention. He slowed, his brow furrowing at the strange sight.

Mikey was cross-legged on the couch, concentrating very hard on an unidentified piece of greenery between his thumb and forefinger. Now, Mikey concentrating on _anything_ was a rare occurrence, let alone something not remotely related to food, comics or video games. Leo momentarily debated whether he should continue toward the kitchen and pretend he hadn't seen anything. Eventually, curiosity won out over his reluctance.

He sidled up to his brother and planted his hands on his hips, tilting his head thoughtfully. When Mikey didn't respond to his presence, Leo piped up, "Uh, Mikey? What exactly are you doing?"

"Scientific observation," Mikey replied seriously, not removing his eyes from the sprig of greenery inches from his face.

"Oh. How…interesting," Leo tried to be encouraging despite his scepticism. Perching himself on the arm of the couch, Leo asked, "What are you, ah…observing?"

"Mistletoe," Mikey replied simply.

The vaguely familiar word brought an uncommon image to Leo's mind: two people standing under a small fragment of plant and kissing. He wrinkled his beak, wondering how he had witnessed such a thing. No doubt the result of sitting with Mikey, waiting for his brother's program to end so he could watch _Space Heroes._

"Okay…" Leo trailed off, still unsure why Mikey was avidly studying the piece of mistletoe. "And what have you concluded?"

After another brief pause, Mikey leaned back and sighed, "That I have _no idea_ why this thing makes people kiss!" His mind jumping trains of thought, Mikey popped up and whispered dramatically, "Maybe it's _magic_!"

Leo was silent for a long moment. He neither professed to be an expert on human traditions nor kissing, but he was fairly certain that the wilted leaves in his brother's hand had no magical properties. He was about to say as much when Raph sauntered in the room and, seeing Mikey staring hard at the sprig, demanded, "What're ya doin' now, numbskull?"

Mikey's face brightened and he jumped up onto his knees, asking, "Do _you _know how mistletoe works, Raph?"

For a second, Raphael was caught off guard; however, his recovery was so rapid, only Leo noticed his hesitation. Raphael smiled wickedly and replied, "Sure, Mike. I know _all_ about it!"

"Really?" Mikey asked, overjoyed that his questions would be answered.

"Yeah," Raph confirmed as he ambled over to the couch. He crossed his arms over his chest explained, "There's pollen in mistletoe that falls out whenever people walk under it and makes them kiss. It's a chemical thing."

"Wow!" Mikey exclaimed, awestruck by his brother's knowledge. His eyes lighting up as he looked at the vegetation grasped in his hand, Mikey mused, "I wonder if this stuff still works?"

"Why don't we test it out?" Raph suggested slyly, casting a glance toward where Don and April were huddled over a diagram on the opposite side of the lair, blissfully unaware of the mistletoe exchange.

Leo understood Raphael's intentions immediately, and although he did not necessarily want to be a part of the humiliation, he _was_ interested to see the reaction.

"I'm going to get a mug of tea," he announced, knowing that the kitchen was at an excellent vantage point to view the spectacle without being associated with the nonsense.

Raph and Mikey ignored him as he headed toward the kitchen, setting about preparing a cup of tea but listening intently for the action. Soon, the moment came.

"Oh Doooooonnniiiiiieeeee," Mikey called mockingly.

"What is it, Mikey?" Don asked a bit impatiently, either in the middle of some important work or irritated that his April-time was being interrupted.

"Take a look," Mikey replied and Leo craned his neck to see around the kitchenette. Don and April had both looked upward to where Mikey was pointing. Dangling from a piece of fishing line was the flaccid piece of mistletoe. Even at a distance, Don and April's sudden looks of realization were priceless.

"Is that…?" April trailed off, wondering if she was processing this properly.

"Mistletoe? Why, yes it is!" Mikey finished her thought, sounding overly smug.

"Where did he get mistletoe in a sewer?" April wondered.

Clearly petrified, Don stuttered, "I-I, uh…I d-don't know."

"What's the matter, Don? Nervous?" Raph teased as he slunk form his hiding place in the shadows, his smirk overt.

"W-well, uh….I mean…n-not to say that…um…" Poor Donatello was in dire straits, unable to form a full sentence. Had the situation not been so entertaining, Leo would have stepped in; as it was, the conversation took an unexpected turn.

"There's nothin' to it!" Mikey encouraged him. Snagging April by the shoulders, he explained, "You just dip, and kiss!"

And Mikey did just so, pushing April's chair back onto its hind legs and giving her a peck on the lips. When he righted her seat, the girl was flushed, although she looked amused as opposed to irritated. Don, in contrast, was beside himself.

"Mikey!" he cried, mildly annoyed that Mikey had kissed April but more annoyed that even with a perfectly good excuse hanging over him, he didn't have the courage to kiss April.

"Your turn," Mikey joked, grinning cheekily. His eyes narrowed dangerously, Donatello lunged forward and set off after a shrieking Mikey.

Leo tried to hide his grin, knowing that when Don got a hold of Mikey, the orange masked turtle would be subjected to an intricate and clever punishment of Donatello's design.

Leo would dispose of the mistletoe later. But for now, the vacant television was calling out to him with the voice of Captain Ryan.

_Mikey, you deserve __**exactly**__ what's coming to you…  
This chapter was far too fun to write. Thank you for reading and please review!_


	3. Scarves

_Disclaimer: I do not own the TMNT, they belong to Nickelodeon.  
This is a follow up piece to the previous one, _Mistletoe_. I hope you enjoy it, and please review!_

Scarves

As he observed his youngest brother, who was suspended upside-down from the ceiling by woollen, multi-colored bindings, Leo's question wasn't how Don had gotten Mikey up there. It wasn't how long his brother had been hanging there, or whether Master Splinter had noticed Mikey, wrapped up so tightly in fabric that he resembled a cocoon. It wasn't even how he was going to get Mikey down.

Leo's question was simple: Where did Don find so many scarves?

_Clearly, Don didn't appreciate Mikey kissing April earlier. Revenge is best served with scarves! Or…something like that…meh, I'll think of something better later. Thank you for reading, and please review!_


	4. Christmas Tree

_Disclaimer: The turtles are on the Christmas list, but for now I don't own anything! Without further ado, the next instalment!_

Christmas Tree

"Hold it steady, Mikey!" Donatello ordered, crouched beneath his younger brother with twine in his hands.

"I'm trying, Donnie! Hurry up!" Mikey replied, stretching as far as he could on his toes.

Don pushed his tongue into the gap between his teeth in concentration, trying to tie the delicate knot with his oversized fingers. "Almost…" he murmured to himself as he made the last loop and drew the string through, pulling it taught.

"Done!" He exclaimed triumphantly. He and Mikey stepped back to admire their work, quite pleased with how it had turned out.

"Wait 'til Master Splinter, Raph and Leo see it!" Mikey bubbled with excitement. Sucking in a breath, he proceeded to race around the perimeter of the lair while calling, "Hey guys! Take a look at this!"

Within twenty seconds, Raphael and Leonardo emerged from the dojo, the former adjusting the wrap around his right hand with a violent jerk.

"What is it now, you noodle brains?" Raph groused, a bit irritated that he had been interrupted in the middle of his workout. He had almost beaten his all-time record of 126 push-ups in under two minutes, and that was his holiday goal.

"Check it out, dudes!" Mikey urged, practically vibrating in anticipation while his blue eyes sparkled with mirth. Donatello, sporting a similar expression of child-like excitement, gestured grandly as he stepped to the side, revealing something tall and green behind him.

It took Leo and Raph a few seconds to realize they were looking at a crudely assembled Christmas tree. A mess of fir and spruce branches were tied together with well-used twine, a pile of needles circling the base of the tree from their struggle with the unruly stems. Despite Don's best efforts, the makeshift tree was quite crooked, the top quarter angled visibly to the left.

"What do you think?" Don asked expectantly, eager for his brothers' reaction the Masterpiece.

Raph and Leo glanced at each other, both thinking the same thing: that the tree looked as if a dump truck had driven over it, backed up, and run over it again. But neither Leo nor Raph had the heart to say so for fear of being the one to crush the two eager turtles' spirits.

Playing it up just a bit, Raph tilted his head as he surveyed the Christmas tree, finally delivering his verdict: "I like it."

"Looks great, guys," Leo concurred, not even flinching when one of the less securely tied branches dropped a few inches. "It has…character."

Donatello sensed that his brothers weren't overly impressed, but appreciated their support, allowing his gapped smile to widen. Mikey was positively beaming, overwhelmed by the – admittedly lacklustre – compliments.

"Thanks, dudes!" Mikey replied. Remembering suddenly, he added, "Oh! And you're just in time to help us decorate it!"

"With what, Mikey? We don't have any decorations – not even lights," Raph pointed out.

A thoughtful smirk spread over Don's face, indicating that he had a plan forming in his twisted labyrinth of a brain. Voice betraying him, Don said cunningly, "I think I can fix that."

Master Splinter, following a lengthy meditation session, decided to check on his sons. They had been relatively quiet for the past hour; a sign that either they were scheming to sneak out, or that one of them had been injured doing something forbidden and they were trying to hide the damage. Both scenarios concerned him.

It was a great surprise, then, when he came across the decorated Christmas tree in the living room. It was not the strange appearance of the fragmented tree that made him pause; it was the source of the lights on the tree. Splinter stooped to inspect the small lights, marvelling at his sons' creativity.

Where his sons had acquired a dozen, bright red emergency lights, Splinter really didn't want to know. Although, they _were_ quite festive.

_Hooray for late updates! I hope you enjoyed reading because I certainly enjoyed writing. If you have any feedback, feel free to leave it in a review!_


	5. Eggnog

_Disclaimer: I have no turtles. See? *holds out empty bag*  
There isn't much to explain, just that this is the next instalment in the Advent Challenge. Please enjoy a Mikey and Don interaction!_

Eggnog

"Doooonniiiieeeeee," Mikey intoned from outside the lab, his voice echoing through the lair. Don reflexively tensed, expecting the worst.

So far, his day had consisted of various repairs. Shortly after morning training, Raph had whisked by with the news that the punching bag was broken. Once Don had stitched up the tear and remounted the bag in the dojo, he returned to his lab. He had no sooner sat down than Mikey had entered, blubbering over his damaged T-Pod. It took about an hour, but Mikey was again grooving to the rhythm of his dance tunes. Even Leo had visited his lab today, bearing a broken toaster and his most sincere apologies.

Thanks to his brothers' clumsiness, Don had only been at work for forty minutes, and he was not in the mood for another repair. This would be Mikey's second offence of the day, and Don wouldn't wait for strike three to knock Mikey out.

"What is it, Mikey?" he called wearily, feeling as if he was always asking his youngest brother the same question. Donatello dreaded what appliance Mikey would enter with. Would it be the T-Pod again, or some new victim of Mikey's carelessness? A handheld game? Perhaps the television? The possibilities were endless. Don braced himself for the massacre that would no doubt be brought to him cradled in Mikey's hands.

He heard more than saw his brother enter and raised his head at the sound of a soft 'thunk'. Next to his hand was a steaming mug of coffee, sporting a jolly image of a smiling snowman. Donatello looked up at his baby brother in question, suspicious of the gesture.

"I thought you could use some fresh coffee," Mikey explained, his bright blue eyes apologetic. Donatello quickly realized this was Mikey's way of making up for the broken T-Pod, and at this point in the afternoon a hot cup of the good stuff was welcome. Shoving aside his tepid brew from the morning, Don accepted the java and Mikey's unspoken apology.

"Thanks, Mikey," Don said, setting his pen down in favour of cupping his mug. He raised the drink to his lips, snowman facing out, and took a sip. His taste buds were pleasantly surprised by the unexpectedly creamy and sweet flavour of the joe, so unlike any coffee he had ever sampled.

"This is delicious, Mikey!" Don praised him, asking, "What did you do to it?"

"I poured some eggnog in it," the younger turtle replied, perching his rump on the edge of Donatello's work table. Don winced minutely at the crinkle of the blueprints for the Patrol Buggy under his brother's rear but refrained from commenting. He wanted to savour this moment of brotherly love.

"Soooooo…are you busy?" Mikey asked casually, swinging his legs absently.

"Well, yes, I've already been interrupted three times today. I've barely even started on these blueprints, and I still have to work on a new reinforcement I've designed for my bo. Raph keeps breaking it during training, and I think that I've finally pinned down the root of the problem. While the wood type was specifically chosen due to its minimal water absorption, it is a very brittle substance, even when stored in a sewer. I've been experimenting with steel alloys, and I think I've– "

Donatello halted his rambling upon noticing Mikey's glazed expression and realizing that his brother had yet to crack a joke or interrupt him. None of his brothers entertained his lengthy explanations, not even Leo. So how could _Mikey_, the turtle with the attention span of a hyperactive squirrel, sit so quietly and politely while he related the tale of his latest project? Something was up.

"Why do you ask?" Don queried, narrowing his eyes distrustfully.

This was when the first cracks began to show in Mikey's mask of innocence, his eyes darting around in mild panic. His voice raspy with deceit, Mikey squeaked, "Oh, nothin'. Just wondering…"

Donatello dropped his head and closed his eyes tiredly, his suspicions confirmed. Without opening his eyes, he enquired, "What did you break?"

"A security camera," Mikey answered, having the courtesy to sound remorseful.

"Front or back entrance?" Don probed, stretching his aching neck.

"Back."

"Cracked or shattered lens?"

"Shattered."

"…give me five minutes."

Mikey thanked Donatello and quickly made himself scarce, not wanting to get in his brother's way again. Donatello sighed and smiled fondly to himself, knowing that no matter how many times Mikey, Leo or Raph broke things, he would always swoop in as Mr. Fix-It to save the day. And despite the fact that the eggnog laced coffee was a thinly veiled ploy to soften him up for the next blow, he appreciated the warm beverage.

A hand curved around either side of the mug, Donatello tilted the drink to his lips, savouring the moment of peace.

_I love Mikey and Don fluff, they are just the perfect pair! What cuties _:D  
_I hope you liked reading this chapter. I promise to post more soon! I have almost caught up with the challenge, and Stars is waiting eagerly in the wings._


	6. Stars

_Disclaimer: I do not own the turtles, they are the property of Nickelodeon and Viacom.  
So…it's day nine, and although I haven't posted all the prompts, I am finally posting the correct one on the proper day! _Stars_ is the ninth prompt, and today just happens to be the ninth, so here you go! Please enjoy some more silliness revolving around the turtles…"special" tree._

Stars

"Well, what do you think? Did we do it right?" Don asked April hopefully as he showed her the Christmas tree. Following April's explanation of many previously unknown aspects of Christmas, Don had insisted upon taking up every new tradition possible. Now, whether this was because he had been enthralled by April's description of Christmas or because he wanted to impress April was anyone's guess; however, right now he was clearly seeking her approval on the newly assembled and decorated tree.

April poised her hands on her hips and pressed her lips together thoughtfully, taking in the odd sight. The once ramshackle tree was now decked with handmade paper ornaments, popcorn strings, a few old ornaments she had found and…were those emergency lights? The tree _was_ rather cute, especially when one considered it was entirely constructed and decorated by four teenage boys trained in the art of ninjutsu.

April looked at Don and smiled warmly at his expression, eager like a child at…well, Christmas.

"It's perfect," she replied, rewarded when the purple banded turtle's smile widened into a grin worthy of Mikey. To keep herself from laughing at Don's uncharacteristic show of child-like joy – it was even cuter than the tree – April turned back to inspect the tree further.

As her eyes travelled up the green, lopsided body, April noticed something she hadn't before. Balanced on the highest branch was an extremely sharp, four pointed star that glinted in the overhead light. Another quick sweep with her eyes revealed that there were at least seven more of the stars strategically placed within the collection of branches, hiding innocently among the harmless paper ornaments and the many reindeer frozen in various action poses.

Trying to hide her amusement, April jutted her chin toward the very top collection of branches and remarked, "The ninja stars are a nice touch."

_Oh, Donnie _XD _He's always looking for April's approval.  
This was a short one, but it just came to me so easily, I couldn't help but write it down. I hope you enjoyed this one shot, and if you have any feedback, please let me know! I'd appreciate any tips. Thank you for reading!_


	7. Family

_Disclaimer: I don't own any turtles, they belong to Nickelodeon and Viacom.  
Here is the prompt for _Family_. I'm almost finished catching up, and then I will only have to write one per day! Hooray!  
I'm not totally happy with this one, but the image refused to leave my head. Perhaps it leans more toward cozy, but oh well! I like it, and it stays!  
_  
Family

Raphael dozed with his chin propped upon his fist, barely registering the Christmas special on the snowy television screen. How Mikey had suckered him – not to mention April, Leo and Don – into watching Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer, he couldn't explain. More accurately, he would rather not explain; it was humiliating. One can only take so much poking, prodding and whining before they snap or give in. And today, Raph just didn't have the fight in him. He had been up late last night talking to Spike and this morning, Sensei had started practice half an hour earlier than usual. Raphael was exhausted, and didn't have enough energy to do more than swat at Mikey. He had been an easy target for the orange masked turtle.

Raph stiffened as something hard connected with his shoulder and he turned his head to see Mikey snoring softly into the crook of his neck. Classic Mikey: unable to stay awake during the movie that _he _had forced everyone to watch. Slowly, Raphael attempted to push his brother into a sitting position, but the younger turtle moaned in protest, snuggling further into the hot head's side. Again, Raph nudged the turtle who had mistaken him for a pillow, but this only made Mikey wrap his arm around his elbow, mumbling something about pizza ninjas. For perhaps the first time ever, Raph sighed in defeat, realizing he was no match for the clingy Michelangelo.

"Shell for brains," he grumbled, although he threw an arm across his little brother's shoulders. Leonardo, who had noticed Raph's struggles, smiled at the amusing picture. Tough guy Raphael, reduced to a cushion by Mikey, the so called 'bane of his existence'? It was too rich.

Shifting in his seat on the other side of Raph, Leo extracted a blanket from beneath his shell, draping the fleece over his two siblings. Raphael grunted his thanks, barely even looking at his undoubtedly smug older brother. He didn't want to make a big deal of the brother presently napping on his side. Unfortunately, Don and April had also taken notice of the cuddling turtles, forgetting about the corny Christmas special still running on the TV set.

As he settled further into the couch, Leo pressed against one hip and Mikey's face squashed against his opposite shoulder, Raph realized that he was finally experiencing a normal family moment. One of those warm moments that end the movie, as the camera pulls outs and the strings ring sweet in the orchestra. The only differences were that four of the five teens crammed on the couch were human-sized turtles, and they were in a dark wing of the sewer instead of a brightly lit house. Strange as it was to have temporary peace, surrounded by his brothers and their new-found friend, Raph found that he was enjoying the moment.

Not that he would make a habit of it. But it was nice.

_I am such a sap. But I can't help it, the new series makes them super cute! I hope you enjoyed, please review!_


	8. Presents

_Disclaimer: I do not own the TMNT, they are the property of Nickelodeon and Viacom.  
Here is the prompt for presents! (yeah, I haven't really caught up, but I will…eventually) I hope you enjoy!_

Presents

The lair was mostly dark, the only light a dim bulb in the kitchen. The pale, filmy light cast shadows that coated the walls and floor , providing cover for the figure who ducked among them. The only sound was the drip of a rusted pipe overhead in need of tightening, one of the drops landing on the head of the night crawler. He bit back a screech upon impact, his heart leaping up to his throat. When he touched his head to find only liquid there, he relaxed, his pulse slowing as suddenly as it spiked.

His mission was of utmost importance, and he feared discovery, for the consequences would be grave. The only chance for him to make his move was while his antagonist was sound asleep. The dark figure crept through the lair, starting in the living area where he searched under furniture and progressing to the kitchen. As silently as possible, he rummaged through the cupboards, narrowly catching a mug before it hit the stone floor. Replacing the object in the cupboard, he slowly closed the door, frowning to himself. Earlier in the day, he had searched the vacant rooms: the bathroom, the lab and the games area. He was certain his prize was not in any of the places he had checked, which left only one location: the cave of his slumbering adversary.

The thief momentarily hesitated. There was a far greater risk of being caught if he entered the dwelling place of the oppressor.

It was a risk he would have to take.

Slowly, he crossed the lair to the room where he knew the item he sought must be contained. He paused just outside the door, straining to hear any activity from the forbidden room. All was quiet. Clasping the doorknob, he turned it deliberately, poking his head in to scope out the situation. A single figure lay on the bed belly up, perfectly straight and unsettlingly silent. How he slept like that, the bandit would never know. But it was _creepy_.

Once inside he tiptoed over to the bed, flattening himself to the ground and pushing as much of his body under the bed that he could. He groped around in the darkness, sweeping his arm back and forth twice as far as he could reach. Finding nothing, he wriggled out from under the bed and got to his feet, brushing himself off. Next was the closet. He stole to the closet and opened it quietly, a face jumping out from the dark as the door swung open. The image made him jump in surprise and he clapped a hand over his mouth to stifle his scream, not wanting to wake the light sleeper behind him. The man on the poster had dark hair and a self-assured smirk, his light jumpsuit sporting a high collar. Making note of this poster for future reference – that is, if he survived his mission – the infiltrator resumed his search.

Two minutes later, he was positive what he hunted wasn't there. Momentarily forgetting he was in enemy territory, he released a discouraged sigh. He sucked the same breath back in as a commanding hand clapped onto his shoulder, sending white hot fear through his body.

"Busted," Mikey groaned, disappointed that he had been so close, yet so far. He was spun by his captor and grabbed by the shoulders, forced to face the music.

"Thought you could sneak a peek at your present, did you?" Leo asked, cocking an eye ridge.

The younger turtle nodded meekly, caught red handed and red faced. Shifting his hold on Michelangelo's shoulders, Leo piloted him toward the door. He gently pushed his brother out the door and wished him a good night, but not before saying, "Nice try, Mikey, but you'll never find where I hid your gift."

"Aw c'mon, Leo! Just give me a hint," Mikey pleaded, batting his baby blues expertly. Barely hiding a smile Leo patted the intruder affectionately before closing the door. As he turned his shell on the door, Leo allowed his smile to widen into a delighted grin. Striding over to his bed he flopped down face first, relishing the sensation of pride swelling in his chest. He had always been the best at hiding presents around Christmas, but this year he had surpassed even his own expectations.

There was no way Mikey or any of his other siblings would find the presents. Not hidden at April's aunt's house.

Leo settled in under his sheets, the smile refusing to leave his face as he drifted off to sleep.

_Another cute (and late) one-shot. Thank you so much for reading!_


	9. Tobogganing

_Disclaimer: I don't own the turtles, they are property of Nickelodeon and Viacom.  
Special thanks to TimidBookworm, who pointed out a mistake involving Don's exact position on the toboggan. Pardon any other mistakes, I'm quite drugged up after getting my wisdom teeth removed yesterday.  
Please enjoy this short!_

Tobogganing

"Are you sure this is a good idea? April asked, nudging the silver monstrosity hesitantly with the toe of her boot. It was a large piece of metal that had been contorted into the shape of a traditional toboggan with some minor modifications. At least April had never seen a toboggan with a proper seat and a gear shift. It was either the coolest sled she had ever seen…or a one-way trip to the emergency room.

"Totally, April! It's a sweet ride!" Mikey cut across Don's attempt to ease her anxieties. The blue eyed turtle crowed loudly as he picked up his own tricked-out toboggan and raced toward the hill, throwing himself plastron first onto the sled as it hit the ground. He flew over the ledge, cackling as he received a face-full of snow. This didn't seem to convince April; if anything, it made her more concerned for her life.

"Trust me, I've run all the tests," Donatello insisted, his words muffled by the candy cane-striped scarf encircling his neck. He pulled the fabric away from his mouth as he added, "And even if something goes wrong, there are safety features."

"A colander for a helmet is _not_ a safety feature," April contradicted, folding her arms over her chest. This was difficult, as she was bundled up in a pale blue coat, under which she also sported a hoodie, a turtle neck and a T-shirt. Her arms could barely go all the way across her front. To April's dismay, her extra bulk made every movement awkward. As a kunoichi in training, she had been working on her balance and her oversized garments compromised any grace she possessed. Her lack of coordination was magnified next to the four turtles who, in spite of their enormous shells and disproportionate bodies, had almost perfect balance.

"Suit yourself," shrugged Leo, his oddly shaped toboggan tucked beneath his arm.

Raphael was not far behind his brother, one foot holding the toboggan in place. He smirked and asked, "You up for a race, Fearless?"

Leo's eyes narrowed and his jaw tightened, his voice self-assured as he countered, "Only if you're ready to lose."

Without warning, the competitive pair set off down the hill, sending a thick cloud of powder in their wake that obscured the brothers from view.

April was still sceptical of the security of Don's invention and – if she was being honest with herself – afraid to go down the massive hill. Don noticed her hesitation and extended his empathy, coaxing softly, "I promise you'll be okay."

She looked up into his eyes, so full of sincerity, and knew that he was telling her the truth. Out of his brothers, Don was the most gentle, every word directed at her teeming with affection. April smiled up at him and relented, "Alright, I'll go; _if_ you come down with me."

Don's heart rate accelerated and for the first time since snow had fallen on New York, he felt uncomfortably warm. It was a Herculean effort for him to clear the fear obstructing his windpipe and his speech was shaky as he said, "I'm not sure if it will support both of our weight."

"Oh, come on!" April urged, grabbing him by a mitten covered hand to pull him toward the silver toboggan a few feet away. When April attempted to slowly lower herself onto the toboggan, the puffy coat hindered her motions. After a few seconds, April gave up on an elegant deposit and tumbled unskilfully backward onto the toboggan, earning a laugh from Donatello. Ignoring the pain in her rump, she tucked her knees to her chest and pushed herself as far forward as possible, her toes pressed against the curve of the toboggan. Once comfortably seated, April twisted around and wondered, "Coming?"

Don smiled nervously at her, stepping around to the back of the metal contraption. He sat more gracefully than April and shimmied forward, his plastron pressed against her back. He straddled her hips from behind and with minutely trembling hands, wrapped both arms around her waist in a close hug. She was warm; _really_ warm. This caused the heat in his cheeks to rise and he was glad that she couldn't see his face, no doubt a deep shade of green.

April grabbed the handles on either side of the sled and enquired excitedly, "You ready to take the plunge?"

"Yeah," Don answered, although he already felt as if he had pitched himself off a cliff and was plummeting unchecked toward an unknown terrain. He feared what the landing would be like.

"Here we go!" April cried as she pushed them over the ledge.

'_Exactly what I was thinking,' _Don thought to himself wryly.

_As Mikey would say: "That's adooooooooooooorable" _

_I hope you enjoyed, and please review, should you feel so inclined._


	10. Candy Canes

_Disclaimer: I own no turtles, their adorableness belongs to Nickelodeon and Viacom. Seriously, when did they get so cute?  
So this is my post for Candy Canes (the second advent prompt) and although it is late, I hope it does not disappoint. This one is almost double the length of the others and I acknowledge there might be some out of character moments, but I chalk it up to brothers just naturally having it out for each other.  
Remember two chapters ago when I said Leo was the best at hiding presents? I may have neglected to mention that he is also the best at finding them.  
Please enjoy this (late and lengthy) chapter!_

Candy Canes

In the Hamato clan, honour stood above all things. One aspect of this was honouring one's debts, and this meant that when a service was provided, it was to be paid for in full.

But the currency was not ordinary money, which had little to no influence on the turtles; instead, each brother had his own individual weak spot. Mikey's allegiance could easily be bought with a toy, food, or something shiny. Donatello, while more difficult to entice, would do just about anything in exchange for a rare part or tool for his latest project. Leo could only be persuaded if some obscure _Space Heroes _memorabilia he did not yet own was involved. Raph was the most difficult to bribe, although in December of each year it became infinitely easier to appeal to the temperamental turtle's sense of humanity.

Or at the very least, his sweet tooth.

Yes, Raphael's kryptonite was a Christmas candy unequalled by any other: Candy canes. Everything about the delicious treats, from their red, white and green stripes to their fresh flavour made Raph's mouth water. Beneath his bed, hidden among the mechanic magazines and the forgotten action figures from his childhood was a sack of candy canes filled to bursting. There had to be at least four dozen of those bad boys in there, if not more. Candy canes were the one thing the hothead showed a liking toward – besides Spike, of course – and his siblings spared no time calling in favours when candy canes were in season.

Mikey was Raph's best customer, for he irritated each sibling at least once a day. Dr. Prankenstein's daily hijinks increased almost threefold during the Christmas holidays, when the weather prevented outdoor excursions. Whenever Mikey had not pranked Raph within a 24 hour period, he would seek refuge in his petulant brother's room with a handful of candy canes. After snatching the spoils from his youngest brother and carefully counting out the goods, Raph would grunt to indicate Mikey was welcome to stay until the afflicted sibling calmed down.

Raphael didn't simply deal in hiding fugitives; his services varied. Wanted to get out of a chore of some kind? A dozen would buy you a half hour of labour. Needed a steadfast alibi to avoid Master Splinter's suspicion? It cost a pretty penny – a twenty-four candy cane kickback, to be exact – but your shell was almost guaranteed to be safe. Throw in an extra eight candy canes and he would help you frame another brother for the crime.

But one day, Raphael was faced with his strangest mission yet.

Late one particularly cold afternoon, he heard a timid knock on his door. Swiftly tucking his copy of _Hot Rod_ under his pillow, Raph rolled off his bed and dropped down into a plank, rumbling through a push-up, "Yeah?"

The door eased open slowly and in popped Leo's face, his expression an odd mixture of embarrassment and hope. His voice uncertain, Leo greeted stiffly, "Hi, Raph. May I, uh, come in?"

With deadpan delivery, Raph pointed out, "You kind of already did."

Leo took this as an invitation and he slipped in, closing the door behind him. He glanced around shiftily, hands clasped behind his back. Pushing himself to his feet, Raphael stretched and wondered, "What do _you _want, Fearless?"

"I was wondering if you could do me a favour," Leo explained in a hushed tone. Habitually, this would have been Raph's cue to make a snarky remark that would send his older brother off in a silent huff. But the package Leo kept concealed behind his back had piqued Raph's interest, and he was curious to see its contents.

"Depends on what the favour is, Leo," Raphael replied, folding his arms over his chest and raising an eye ridge expectantly. Raph sensed that it was killing Leo to ask for his assistance and could hardly suppress the smile that was threatening to overtake his features. It wouldn't do to let Leo know he was enjoying this temporary shift in power; he the one in control, Leo the underling. He would have stood there for hours if his older brother hadn't spoken up.

"I need your help to get Don off my tail," Leo explained vaguely, hoping he would not have to go into further detail.

"What did you do, O Fearless Leader?" Raphael quipped, unable to hide the delight in his voice.

Avoiding Raph's eyes in an uncharacteristic show of nerves, Leo disclosed sheepishly, "I might have _accidentally _snuck a peek at Don's Christmas gift for April."

"Is that all?" Raph pressed. For such a big lead up, he had anticipated a larger problem. Leo was quiet for a long moment, clearly wrestling with his conscience. Finally, the brother in blue exhaled in defeat, knowing Raphael would not help without further description.

"Well, when I found the gift and the card, I took it upon myself to add something extra to the card's message. And, well, let's just say that Don is currently on a headhunt for the culprit.…" Leo trailed off.

Based on the regret etched into his older brother's face, this prank was something Raph desperately needed to see. However, Raphael was not one to rush into such business dealings lightly, although his impulsive nature in battle might infer otherwise. Yes, big bro would have to sweeten the deal to earn any direct show of interest in the matter from Raph.

Feigning indifference, Raph drawled, "Well, Leonardo, it _does_ sound like you're in quite the situation." He crossed to his bed and plunked down hard, continuing conversationally, "If I'm going to help you, you'll need to make it worth my while."

Suddenly, the object that Leo had been hiding behind his back flew across the room and landed in Raphael's lap. It was a medium sized brown paper bag, sealed with a twist tie. Eyes narrowing curiously, Raph opened the bag and inhaled sharply upon seeing what it contained.

There had to be at least forty candy canes in the bag of different hues, flavours and sizes. It was the Mother Lode.

Raphael quickly covered his initial shock and looked up at Leo, asking, "What do you need?"

"Do you think you can replace the ruined card with this one? I'll distract Don as long as I can," Leo explicated, immediately shifting to leader mode as he drew an envelope from his belt. The hot head eyed his brother, still trying to keep up with this new sneaky Leo. He wasn't sure if he preferred this version of his brother or if he scared him just a bit.

Raph took pause, wondering if this was some elaborate trick planned by Leonardo to get him in trouble with Master Splinter. Perhaps Leo was still feeling the humiliation of being beaten yesterday during a sparring match? Quickly he abandoned this idea, knowing that Leo was far too honourable to hold a grudge. No, this was legitimate business

"Alright, Fearless, you got yourself a deal," Raphael replied, stretching out a hand to shake. With only a second of hesitation, Leo clasped the proffered hand and shook it, sealing the transaction.

There was sure to be chaos when blue and red teamed up.

"Ready?" Leo demanded in a low voice, barely glancing at Raphael's hiding place.

Tucked behind a pillar, the accomplice whispered back harshly, "Get your butt in gear!"

'_Close enough,'_ Leo thought and approached Donatello's door, rapping on it sharply.

After much clinking and some absentminded muttering, the door swung open to reveal the visibly peeved genius. Seeing his eldest sibling, Don heaved a long-suffering sigh and began, "If you've broken the toaster _again_, Leo, just leave it on the work bench–"

"No, Don, it's nothing like that," the leader smoothly cut across his sibling, his face ever placid. "I was just hoping you could take a moment to help me with something. It's a gift for Sensei."

"Oh." At this, Don's entire demeanour changed from agitated to pleasant and he smiled, replying, "Sure, I can give you a hand, Leo."

The two went off toward the dojo, where Leo was hiding this alleged "present" for Master Splinter – although knowing Leo, the Teacher's Pet _would_ be making some complicated gift for his Sensei. Once they had disappeared from sight, Raph stole from his hiding spot and slipped into Don's lab, closing the door quietly. He turned to the face the room and was overwhelmed by the sheer volume of mechanical devices, textbooks, computer monitors and graph paper littering the large work desk. Raph gave his head a jerk, reminding himself that time was of the essence.

"Alright, Leo said it was in the bottom drawer…" Raphael mumbled to himself, approaching the desk and dropping to a knee. He eased open the drawer and lifted a large binder labeled "Climate Log" to reveal a medium sized package wrapped neatly in blue graph paper and topped with a bow made of some kind of shiny foil. Wedged in the drawer beside the parcel was a handmade card addressed in Don's efficient hand to April.

Swiftly the red banded turtle swapped the cards, tucking the tampered one into his belt. He pushed the drawer closed and escaped the crime scene, making a beeline for the meeting place. In other words, Leo's room.

Raph only had to wait a few minutes before Leo arrived, calling out a final thank you to the unknowing Donatello. When the door was closed, Leo whirled on Raph and demanded, "Did you make the switch?"

"No, I decided to go pick daisies instead," Raphael replied sarcastically, poising his hands on his hips. Leo exhaled in relief, knowing that Raphael's special brand of humour meant that he had been successful. Seeing his brother's mood shift from on edge to relaxed, Raphael couldn't help asking, "What exactly did Don _do_ for you to mess with his gift for April?"

Leonardo hesitated, clearly ashamed of what he had done. Finally, the generally level-headed leader admitted, "He was making fun of _Space Heroes_."

"Leo, I make fun of you and your dorky show all the time!" Raph pointed out, surprised that it had taken so little to set Leo off.

Rubbing the base of his neck in embarrassment, Leo said, "I know, but when Don did it, I just…lost it. He called Captain Ryan an over-glorified pilot!"

Raphael raised his eye ridges, trying to hide his amusement. Leo exhaled loudly, acknowledging, "I was being childish. But the good news is, now we can destroy the card and Donnie will forget all about it."

"Leave that to me, big brother," Raph said generously, pushing himself off the wall where he was leaning.

Of course, as soon as he left Leo's room, Raph couldn't resist the siren call of the card. He just _had_to know what Leo had written that was so awful. He tiptoed to the kitchen and sat in one of the rickety chairs, curling in on himself to shield the card from any passer-by. He ripped open the envelope and opened the card, his eyes flitting over the writing inside. He had to give Leo credit for his flawless imitation of Donatello's handwriting; however, his admiration of the forgery was forgotten when he read the contents of the card:

_Dear April,_

_This Christmas, all I want is to be close to you. I love you and I hope that you will return this love. You shine brighter than any star in the sky; I hope you'll meet me under the mistletoe. I'll be waiting._

Love,

_Don_

_xoxoxoxoxoxox_

His shoulders were shaking by the time he reached the base of the page and he fought to quiet his laughter. He wasn't sure what would be funnier: watching Leo write the note, or watching April and Don's reactions if they saw the card.

Raphael's silent sniggers were cut short when he felt two hands clamp down hard on his shoulders. Releasing a shout of surprise, he whipped around and found himself snout to snout with a fuming Donatello.

"I _knew_ Leo had something to do with this – the handwriting was too neat to be Mikey's – but I didn't suspect you. That is," Don drew the bo staff from its place behind his back menacingly, "until I reviewed the video surveillance footage from my room."

Raph was speechless. He momentarily considered trying to fight his way out of this. He never got the chance, because Don freed Raph's shoulders and sat across from him, continuing, "I require your services to get back at Leo."

He knew he was being blackmailed, yet this revenge-seeking Don was almost as interesting as pranking Leo. Crossing his arms over his chest and reclining in his seat, Raph countered, "I might be able to help…but it'll cost you."

"I have fifty-six candy canes on standby," Don replied, his tone businesslike.

"What do you need, brainiac?"

_Oh, Raph XD reduced to a gun for hire thanks to his little candy cane addiction.  
I hope to post another chapter very soon, but until then, feel free to leave a review with any critiques!_


	11. Stockings

_Disclaimer: I don't own the TMNT, they belong to Eastman and Laird…I mean Mirage…I mean 4kids…I mean – gah! Stop changing ownership!  
But seriously, now they belong to Nickelodeon and Viacom.  
So, here is my prompt for stockings. And that's about all I have to say. Enjoy!_

Stockings

Master Splinter stood before the row of stockings, smiling fondly to himself. His boys – the same teens who accused him of treating them like children on a daily basis – had not lost all of their child-like charm. They had each made and hung their own stockings, so excited by the beautiful images of Christmas Miss O'Neil had planted in their minds. The old rat clasped his hands behind his back, studying each individual stocking like a father would study his newborn.

Leonardo, always the traditionalist, had stuck to a simple design for his stocking. The stocking was cut and meticulously sewn from midnight blue felt, the top trimmed with white. His full name was neatly stitched in white thread on the stocking, the only other decoration a small silver snowflake that Michelangelo had insisted he put on so it wouldn't be "boring". The clean lines and careful arrangement reflected his eldest son's striving for perfection, a trait both admirable and self-destructive. In this instance, it merely made the product positively enchanting.

Immediately to the right was Donatello's handmade stocking, more elaborate than the previous. Donatello's had been the last stocking to be hung, for he had outlined and executed a multi-step plan for the design. Understanding the his son's need to work out all possible options, although he faintly wished Donatello would be more impulsive, he appreciated the outcome. The stocking had been knit using vibrant purple yarn, the product of three hours' work bent over borrowed knitting needles. Once the base was complete, Donatello had cut out green felt letters to spell his name and sewed them on carefully, pricking himself numerous times. But his son's innovative nature shone through in the small lights he had implanted in the very fabric of his stocking that when illuminated showed the image of a small Christmas tree. The eclectic mixture of mediums added to the whimsy of the small creation.

Next down the line was Raphael's stocking, hastily constructed using red fabric, glue and some green felt. The stocking's edges were a bit frayed and it was distinctly lopsided, but it was a wonder his son had even enough patience to assemble a whole stocking. The green felt had been cut quickly and the slightly crude letters of various sizes spelled out "Raph", the top of the "h" curling away from its backing. Clearly, his son had not used enough glue. The old rat's nose twitched at the drawing of a tiny turtle on the slightly pointed toe of the stocking, assuming it was meant to be the likeness of his more volatile son's favourite pet. Although Raphael could be impatient and temperamental, Splinter was pleased to see that his temperament was becoming more easily controlled. He had only had to stop Raphael from injuring Michelangelo four times over the weekend; a sign of – albeit slow – improvement.

Finally he came to his youngest son's stocking and found himself having to place a paw over his mouth to stifle the laugh that threatened to burst forth. It had been fashioned from almost neon orange fabric, although this was not the most startling thing about the stocking. What shocked him was the sheer size of the stocking. It measured at least half his smallest son's height, able to fit more than twenty normal sized stockings inside of it. The reasoning behind this, Splinter knew, was that Michelangelo assumed a larger stocking meant more presents. When Leonardo pointed this out, the orange clad turtle had squawked in protest, maintaining that the large size was meant to accommodate his especially long name. None had been convinced. What was most touching about the craft was the image that Michelangelo had constructed below his name. In one straight line stood the entire Hamato family plus April, made entirely out of felt. How his son had made the minute features such as the laces on April's sneakers and the crack in Raphael's plastron baffled the ninja master. The family accused Michelangelo of not paying attention, but this attention to detail made it clear that the youngest turtle was more perceptive than he or his sons gave him credit for.

The stockings were all unique and all very beautiful, reflective of the hands that made them. Splinter hummed pleasantly as he reached forward to press the loose letter back onto Raphael's stocking, simultaneously straightening the purple one next to it.

Yes, it was going to be a memorable Christmas.

_I don't know why, but I felt like some Splinter fluff. Sometimes we get to see this fatherly side of him, and it's precious _:D


	12. Chocolate

_Disclaimer: I do not own the TMNT, they are the property of Nickelodeon and Viacom!  
The next instalment is _Chocolate_ and while long overdue, I hope it doesn't disappoint. Please enjoy!  
PS - Hershey Kisses. That is all you need to know._

Chocolate:

The four turtle brothers were gradually becoming more acquainted with the customs of the surface dwellers, due to their increasing exposure to humans. One large reason for their swift adaptation was April, who would patiently explain whatever confused the turtles. While she was proud to be able to teach them things, sometimes April wished she didn't share quite so much with her new friends. Although they were highly trained warriors, they were also immature teenage boys.

And one day, April's good intentions had gone awry, creating the spectacle commonly dubbed the Plague of Hershey.

Innocently, April had arrived at the lair, looking for something to do on an idle Saturday. Now that school was coming to a close for the winter break, she had little homework and few people to spend time with. This in mind, she decided to visit her scaly green friends, appeasing her aunt with the excuse that she would be running Christmas errands in town all day.

Upon entering the turtles' stronghold, she was greeted with a curiously empty lair, the only sound the whirring of the heater Donatello had rigged up at the first mention of frost. The girl frowned and shrugged out of her coat, draping it over a hook positioned at the door of the lair. Extracting a small package from the pocket of her coat, April made her way to the couch, calling out, "Guys? Is anyone here?"

When the only sound that reached her ears was the now familiar hum of the heater, the girl mumbled to herself, "I guess I'll just wait."

She plunked down on the weathered couch and leaned her head back, closing her eyes for a moment of rest. The ordinarily exhausting Christmas preparations were made even more so when coupled with her father's disappearance. She would never admit it aloud, but she had been feeling more keenly the void left in her life by her missing father over the past few weeks. Even though her classmates had stopped tiptoeing around her like someone who was terminally ill, April still felt disconnected from her peers, who were extra cheery at the prospect of Christmas.

To distract herself, April decided to drown her sorrows in the bag of Hershey's Kisses she had brought for the boys. As she tensed to rip the package open, a voice asked less than an inch from her right ear, "Whatcha got there?"

April shrieked and swivelled around to face a beaming Michelangelo, who was perched much like a frog on the back of the couch. He didn't seem remotely concerned that he had just stopped her heart with his sneak attack, barely registering April's hand clutching faintly at her chest. Slightly irked, April stuck out a fist and gently clipped Mikey's shoulder, scolding, "Don't scare me like that!"

"Oh, sorry," the orange masked turtle replied distractedly, his attention focused on the odd package in her hands. "What're those?"

April opened her mouth to reply when another voice materialized, this time by her left ear.

"Hey, April!"

This time the teen was able to stifle her scream and she directed an annoyed glare at the second offender: Donatello.

"Seriously, do I have to put bells on you guys or something?" April demanded, folding her arms over her chest.

At that moment, Raphael sauntered in and upon seeing the girl, he greeted casually, "Oh, hey April." The red banded turtle turned his head slightly and called, "Yo Leo, you were right! It _was_ April who screamed!"

"Told you!" Leo called back as he entered the pit, sheathing his swords.

"Remind me why I came down here again?" April muttered, rethinking her choice of the lair as a safe haven.

Mistaking her rhetorical question for a genuine one, Mikey smiled and replied, "'Cause we're _awesome_!"

April rolled her eyes fondly at the naïve turtle's statement, opting not to make a sarcastic comment. His short term memory kicking in, Mikey asked again, "What you got there, April?"

"Kisses," she replied as she tore open the bag, delving a hand into its depths. It emerged with a fistful of red, green and silver foil wrapped treats that resembled a teardrop with a flat bottom. April extended her hand and queried, "Want some?"

The four turtles had by now formed a sloppy semicircle around the girl and were staring at the candies on her outstretched palm in bafflement.

"It's chocolate," April finally elaborated, and recognition illuminated the four teens' eyes. That word they knew.

"Sweet!" Mikey exclaimed, snatching one from April's hand and promptly popping it into his mouth. A peculiar look entered the bright blue eyes as he sucked on the foil wrapped candy and after a moment, he spat it into his palm. "Ugh, this is nasty chocolate!"

April's hand flew to her mouth and she giggled, explaining, "You don't eat the whole thing, Mikey! You unwrap it first." The red-head demonstrated, peeling back the shiny silver foil and placing the chocolate on her tongue.

"Ohhhhhhhhh," Mikey droned in understanding, quickly opening the saliva coated wrapper and devouring the chocolate inside to the disgust of his three siblings. Amid the remarks of "Gross!" and "Mikey!", the youngest turtle hummed happily, reaching out for another treat. April pulled back her hand, earning a pout from the overeager terrapin.

"Let your brothers have some," she chided gently, holding out her hand to the three older turtles. Donatello was more than happy to accept one of April's Kisses (even if it wasn't the kind he had in mind), unable to hide his goofy little smile. Raphael, never one to turn down chocolate, accepted it with mumbled thanks. Leo, waiting patiently for each of his siblings to have one first, finally selected the last Kiss from her palm.

April opened the bag of Kisses fully and began, "Alright, Mikey, you can have another–"

Michelangelo was already digging a pudgy green hand into the bag.

"…one," April finished lamely, her words falling upon deaf ears.

Always inquisitive, Donatello frowned thoughtfully, asking, "Why are they called Kisses?"

"Sorry Don, I honestly don't know," April supplied, sounding disappointed with her unhelpful reply. The purple banded turtle waved a hand dismissively, knowing there were few questions Google couldn't answer.

It was after a few seconds that April noticed Mikey was unsettlingly quiet. Fearing the worst, she turned to look at him and was surprised to see him studying the bag of Kisses intently. His face was drawn in puzzlement, the cogs turning slowly in the energetic turtle's cerebrum. Predicting she would regret asking, April wondered, "What's on your mind, Mikey?"

"I was just thinking: if it's okay to share these Kisses, why isn't it okay to share the _other kind_ of kisses?"

And just like that, April remembered why she tried to avoid Mikey's questions. Her tone delicate, she replied, "Because, Mikey, these are just chocolate. The other kind of kisses is meant for people who really care about each other."

Mikey's eyes glinted with mischief and he asked, "Like _who_?"

"Oh, I don't know," April answered, searching the air for an example, "Spouses, boyfriends or girlfriends, family–"

Mikey stopped listening at this point, his mind already constructing his next practical joke. April really should have known such information would be dangerous in Mikey's hands.

A wicked grin flashed over Mikey's features and he leapt from his roost. Before any of them could react, the smallest turtle snagged Leo's face and planted a sloppy kiss on his cheek, making his great escape in a puff of purple smoke.

April almost gagged on the disgusting fumes, cursing the day Don made those stupid smoke bombs.

"Yuck! Mikey!" Leo spluttered angrily, wiping the wetness from his cheek and reeling around in search of the guilty party. Only Mikey's hysterical laughter could be heard.

"Anyone up for a round of Ninja Tag: Kiss-mas version?" the prankster quipped from the shadows, his voice bouncing around the cavernous room.

"Come on, Mike, that wasn't fair!" Leo hollered, his eyes flicking around the lair for any sign of his youngest brother.

"Sorry bro, no tag backs!" Mikey whooped, the echo of the space thwarting Leo's attempt to determine Mikey's hiding place.

He, along with his other siblings and April, knew that Ninja Tag was serious business. The only rules were: No tag backs, and don't get caught tagging your target. Other than that, all was fair game.

When Leo turned back to the couch, he saw that April, Raph and Don had all vanished, presumably to avoid the dreaded Kiss. The leader huffed an irritated sigh. He was branded, he knew, with a most unpleasant mark: the Kiss of Hershey. And in order to rid himself of the Kiss, as well as the shame, he would have to be sly.

* * *

The wide berth his brothers and April gave him for the remainder of the morning was a blessing. Leo bided his time, patient and scheming. While he formed a plan to pass the Kiss off to someone else, the eldest gave no sign he was still annoyed about Mikey's dishonourable attack. Like a true ninja, he would strike fast and hard, leaving no trace.

When training was called an hour and a half later, the kissing incident forgotten, April was still with them. She sat in a corner at the suggestion of Master Splinter, instructed to observe the training session. After about forty minutes of katas, Sensei deemed it an opportune time to break into sparring pairs. Raphael was against Michelangelo; Leonardo against Donatello. The blue masked turtle suppressed his smile, his plan coming together perfectly. His target wouldn't have a clue.

Despite his equally calculating manner, Donatello was no match for his older brother; especially when April was a mere ten metres away. The smitten turtle was almost shaking with nerves, fully aware that he would make a complete dork of himself in front of April and there was little he could do to prevent it. His only consolation was that perhaps April would pity him if Leo knocked him out.

At the start of their fight, Leo distanced himself, merely forcing Don backward but not delivering any blows; an odd tactic for Leo. However, Leo's plan required that his mark be in the perfect position.

Soon Donatello grew suspicious of Leo's herding method. Just exactly what was his brother trying to pull? Don noticed that he and Leonardo were gradually getting closer and closer to the other sparring pair. What with the witty banter between the orange and red masked turtles, they were entirely unaware that the other brawl was getting dangerously near.

It was only when Don was almost shell to shell with Raph that Leo made his move: In one graceful motion, he leapt into the air, performing a summersault and landing directly between Donatello and Raphael. Then, with two quick movements from Leo, Don found himself disarmed and on his shell and Raph felt a rapid peck of the lips land on the back of his head.

"What the–?" the hothead spun on Leo, who looked innocent as ever. Before Raph could say anything, Mikey jumped onto his shell, sending the red banded turtle face-first into the concrete.

"And the winner iiiiiiiiiissssssssss…Micheeeeeeeeeeelangelooooooo oooooo!" Mikey crowed victoriously.

Masking his amusement expertly, Leo knelt by the humiliated hothead and teased, "No tag backs, bro."

Raphael was livid. Of all the nasty, rotten, dirty tricks–

But he knew he had been beaten. Raphael was fair when it came to games such as Ninja Tag. Not that he liked losing; it was just part of the game. As the red banded turtle pushed himself off the floor and assessed his sore chin, an idea developed in the back of his mind.

There was no way he was going to keep the Kiss any longer than he had to, so he had to work fast.

* * *

Hidden in the shadows, Raphael observed his mark. She sat unsuspecting on the couch, conversing animatedly with Don over some piece of nerd junk. It would be all too easy to sneak up on her and pass off the Kiss.

His footfalls quiet, he approached the couch from behind, his breathing covered by the incessant chatter of the two ignorant teens. At twenty paces, he lowered himself into a crouch, crawling slowly to his destination. Almost…almost…

When he was less than two steps away, Raphael popped up and pressed his lips hastily to the crown of April's head, effectively stopping all previous conversation. Grinning triumphantly, he barked out, "Ha! I got you, O'Neil!"

"Raph!" April and Don cried in unison, the former irritated and the latter positively furious.

With a dark snicker, Raph mocked, "No tag backs, remember?" With that, he was gone.

April collapsed back into the couch and groaned loudly in frustration, annoyed that she had been such an easy target. Donatello was trying his best to remain calm, although the temperature of his blood was on the rise. _'Seriously, first Mikey kisses April, then Raph? Next thing you know, Leo will be laying one on her!'_

April was also consumed with this sudden turn of events, except she was more concerned with choosing a new target than seeking revenge on her assailant. Even with her training, it would be difficult to plant a kiss on a ninja…especially these brothers. She would need to lull her target into a false sense of security to pull this off.

* * *

A few days passed, and there was still no activity. The brothers lowered their guard slightly, if only because the paranoia was ruining their lives. Leo had gone as far as sleeping with a katana hidden inside his _Space Heroes _pillowcase. Besides, April hadn't been in the lair for more than an hour since the initiation of Ninja Kiss Tag. She probably had forgotten all about the game; at least Mikey had.

The assault came when Don was bent over his laptop, plotting potential methods of tracking April's father. He was so absorbed in his work, he didn't even notice the girl enter the lair, although Mikey greeted her none too quietly. Donatello's head was in an entirely different space, so it was with a jolt of surprise that he registered the sudden pressure on his forehead. He looked up to see April grinning at him. It took him a few seconds for him to realize exactly what had happened:

April had kissed him.

Her smile teasing, she reminded him, "No tag backs."

Swallowing to moisten his mouth, Don replied shakily, "Wouldn't dream of it."

It wasn't until much later in the afternoon, when April had gone home and his brothers were each occupied in their own activities, that Donatello allowed himself to dwell on the historical moment. The thing he had _never_ expected would happen had happened. April had _kissed him._

And it was with great elation that Donatello slowly raised his fist skyward in victory, as if he had pulled Excalibur itself from its stone prison. Then, he proclaimed in hushed excitement,

"Best game of Ninja Tag _ever_!"

_I wonder what Splinter thought about all of this…kissing? Probably that he should never let April come over again…like EVER. Just so you're aware, this is not meant to be romantic in any way (except for Don's feelings toward April); just a silly game between brothers.  
For those who are curious: Hershey's Kisses got their name due to the sound of the machine that originally was used to make them. The sucking sound resembled a kissing noise _XD_ Don't believe me? Type danschocolates into your internet search engine and find the entry about Hershey's Kisses._

_Thank you all for reading!_


	13. Christmas Cards

_Disclaimer: Turtles are not mine, they belong to Viacom and Nickelodeon.  
So, I've decided that since I have no regard for timeliness in my updates and reject any kind of chronological order, I will skip 'Red, Green and Gold' and 'Ornaments' (which will be posted at a later date as a combined prompt) and move on to Christmas Cards.  
Enjoy!_

Christmas Cards:

The acne pocked boy stared at the envelope in his hands, positively perplexed. It was unusual for him to receive more than a mumbled word of thanks or a meagre tip during the graveyard shift at the Pizza Place. Ah well, it all went into the cellphone fund. But tonight, the people he had waited on had been particularly miserly, most likely due to the cold of the evening; except for this one customer, a boy in his mid-teens like himself if the voice was anything to go by.

Working the late shift, the cashier had grown accustomed to dealing with weirdoes, but this guy really took the cake in the looks department. He was so bundled up in pieces of mismatched outerwear that the only feature he could distinguish was the customer's shocking blue peepers. If that wasn't enough, the clerk was faced with the awkward task of informing the boy that no, they did not offer algae as a pizza topping. Must be one of those New-Age food things…

Aside from his quirky appearance and his odd taste in pizza toppings, the teen wasn't half bad. He had been pretty chatty, asking the cashier whether he enjoyed working at the Pizza Place and if he had met any celebrities in his profession. The answers were, respectively, yes and no. By the time the finished pie had arrived, the young teen had declared wholeheartedly that working at a pizza place was the best job in the world. The clerk bit back a sardonic remark about minimum wage and ungodly hours, but smiled and agreed. After all, the customer is always right.

The customer turned to leave with the steaming box tucked under his arm, then faced the cashier again.

"Oh, I almost forgot!" He said, rummaging in his pocket. The young clerk instinctively placed his hand near the panic button concealed under the counter, suddenly on his guard. He was surprised when a white envelope slid across the slick counter and the customer waved at him, calling brightly, "Happy holidays, dude!"

Then he disappeared into the night.

The cashier was at first hesitant to touch the envelope, wondering for a moment if it could trigger a bomb. Realizing that was a stupid paranoia – what kind of bomb fit in an envelope? – he had lifted it gingerly from the counter, perusing the outside. It was blank.

For a moment, he was at a loss as to what he should do. Was there company protocol for this kind of thing? He glanced back to the kitchen, where he knew three other staff members were milling about, although he couldn't see them. He looked at the envelope again, his lips pursed in thought.

What was the harm in opening the envelope, anyway?

Slipping his index under the flap, he broke the seal and withdrew what he could now see was a homemade Christmas card. An array of paper snowflakes and glitter littered the cover of the blue construction paper, the words "Merry Christmas" in big block letters at the top. He opened the card and saw a simple message scrawled by a slightly clumsy hand:

_Thanks for keeping the greasy, cheesy goodness coming. The pizza is much appreciated, bro. Have an epic Christmas!_

He stared at the card in quiet appreciation for a long time, only tearing his eyes from it when the bell jingled to indicate another customer. Hastily tucking the card into his pocket, the clerk greeted the newcomer with extra cheer. "Good evening, and welcome to Antonio's Pizza. May I take your order?"

_I hope you enjoy this update, I thought it was cute. And although it isn't turtle centred, it still has a little green in it. Please review, ladies and gents!_


	14. Christmas Crackers

_Disclaimer: I do not own the TMNT, they are the property of Viacom and Nickelodeon.  
Wow, two updates in one day? Madness! There will potentially be a third (if I can manage to type it up, that is) but I make no guarantees.  
Now, onward to the next instalment in the Advent Challenge!_

Christmas Crackers:

Target in sight.

_Crack!_

April shrieked and whirled on him, her eyes hardening.

"Mikey!"

One down; now, on to the boy genius.

_Crack!_

"Augh, Mikey! This is delicate work!" Donatello huffed, adjusting the goggles that had fallen slightly askew at his violent start.

Two down. Next was the Hothead.

_Crack!_

"Shell, Mikey!" Raphael roared, bearing his teeth. He muttered something about April showing him those stupid Christmas crackers and returned to feeding Spike.

Three down. One to go.

Mikey approached his mark on silent feet, his muscles poising to deliver the aural assault.

With a singing of metal, Michelangelo found the steely point of a katana less than an inch from his snout. Not even opening an eyelid, Leonardo said firmly from his place on the meditation mat, "Don't even think about it, Mikey."

Mikey pouted. He had been so close. _So close._

_Awwwwwwwwwwwww, aren't Mikey's pranks endearing?  
…yeah, that's what I thought. Thank you for reading!_


	15. Cozy

_Disclaimer: The TMNT belong to Nickelodeon and Viacom. I am in no way associated with them.  
Did I say today was a double update day? I meant TRIPLE.  
So, here's Cozy. It's a bit like Chapter 7, but…seriously, what could be cuter in this situation?  
Please enjoy!_

Cozy:

He snuggled further down into the couch, unwilling and unable to move. Seriously, if an earthquake had suddenly shook the lair – although really, their geographical region wasn't prone to such phenomena – he was positive he would not be capable of freeing himself from the nest he had built around himself. A space heater had been dragged to sit no more than three feet from his place on the couch and he had draped a polar fleece blanket over himself to stay the cold, a plush pillow pressed against his side. No, the turtle cocoon was impenetrable.

His eyelids drooped, his mind gladly surrendering to sleep. Since contracting a cold a few days ago, he hadn't bothered to take a single break, deciding he could crash _after _all the work was done. He could feel slumber tugging on the edges of his mind, making the gradually shrinking sliver of the lair he could still see fuzzy. In only a few minutes, he would be out–

"Donnie?"

The turtle in question squeezed his eyes shut completely, hoping the other would think he had fallen asleep. No such luck.

"Doooonniiiiiieeeeeeee," his brother called again, nudging his arm gently.

Exhaling impatiently, Don reluctantly opened his eyes partway and asked, "What is it, Mikey?"

"You look real cozy," his younger sibling remarked, ever gifted with pointing out the obvious.

"Mhm," was all Don deemed necessary in reply, his eyes sliding closed again. He was sick and exhausted and his bed was entirely obscured by files that he had absolutely no energy to organize at the moment. The couch was the perfect place for a nap…

Well, at least he had _thought _it was.

Mikey was quiet for another long moment, leading Don to believe that he was just going to drop the conversation. Again, he was wrong.

A muted voice, one quarter its usual size: "Can I cuddle with you?"

Don just barely stifled a groan. He had _known _this was where the conversation was headed; he just hadn't wanted to acknowledge it. Now he was faced with two equally unappealing options: Giving in to his baby brother _yet again_; or sending him away.

"Mikey, I'm sick," he rationalized, leaning his head back on the couch, "I don't want you coming down with whatever I have."

It was bad enough when he was sick, but Mikey incubating a cold was a _nightmare_. Between the endless requests and whining, it became difficult to resist the urge to put Mikey out of everyone's misery.

Don chanced to raise an eyelid and saw that Mikey's face was pensive, the young turtle's mouth twisted in thought. Silently praying to God, Mohammad, Buddha, The Supreme Being, _anyone _willing to listen that Mikey would decide to leave him alone for a much deserved rest, Don held his breath.

Finally, Mikey spoke – although it was not what Don expected to hear.

"But Donnie, didn't you say this thing is airborne?" Mikey reasoned – yes, _reasoned_ – scratching the base of his skull. "It doesn't really make a difference then, right?"

Don was uncertain whether to be impressed that Mikey remembered him saying that, as he hadn't even been aware that Mikey was listening, or irritated that his jokester of a brother was making more sense than he was. Quite honestly, Donatello did not possess the mental faculties to argue with Mikey at this point. His brain was slowly melting into turtle soup, thanks to the inviting warmth of the heater.

Wordlessly, Don lifted the edge of the blanket so his younger brother could duck inside the fleece fortress, closing them both off from the cold air with a snap of the fabric.

Speaking of cold – yikes! Mikey's toes were _freezing_! Don sucked in a sharp breath of surprise but didn't comment, hoping that his brother's temperature would match his in the next few minutes. If not, he might have to boot the little couch invader from under the blanket.

Luckily for Mikey, Donatello was a generally tolerant turtle. He didn't even object when Mikey nuzzled his cheek against his arm like some kind of bald, oversized feline.

It was cuter than it sounded.

Mikey was asleep before five minutes had passed, and Don followed soon after. Warm smiles and an affectionate pat were directed at the dozing pair by the family members who passed by. No one wanted to disturb them, each for their own reasons:

Master Splinter felt it was a special bonding moment between brothers.

Leo knew they both desperately needed the sleep.

And Raph was just glad that they had shut up for once.

_Raphael is a sentimental boy, no matter what he'd have you believe _XD  
_Here's yet another update (Three in one day? WHAAAAAAAAAAAT?), I hope you liked it. I just have one question: Why is it so easy to write about Mikey? It's like every prompt "Oh, what if Mikey did __**this**__?" Seriously, I can't figure it out. He's not even my favourite!_

_Mikey: WHAT?! D,:_

_Me: I didn't say anything! _

_Any feedback would be appreciated in a review. Thanks all!  
_


	16. Red, Green and Gold & Ornaments

_Disclaimer: Do not own Ninja Turtles, property of Nickelodeon and Viacom. Writing is more fun without articles_ :)  
_Here is my entry for "Red, Green and Gold" and "Ornaments". I combined them because…well…because I'm lazy and this idea worked, alright?  
A small note that this chapter's _**rating has been upped to T** _for the implication of minor violence and an almost swearword. No graphic content, gore or actual profanity but just be aware there's a little fighting in this one. You have been warned._

Another night of patrol, another battle with some lousy street punks. These ones were relatively harmless, wielding nothing more menacing than a crowbar or a baseball bat. With the predictability of a favourite novel, the turtles had stumbled across a store break in and immediately engaged the thieves. Needless to say, the turtles were outnumbered but certainly not outwitted or outskilled. And as the fight progressed deeper into the alleyway, the cacophony rising to near deafening, it was a wonder that no one within earshot had called the police.

It was a familiar pattern that was gradually losing its charm. Who could blame Raph for wanting to mix things up a bit?

The punk hit the brick hard, grunting on impact. With a shaking hand, he made a move to push himself off the wall he was now slumped against. This was abandoned in lieu of turning his face away as a burst of gold collided with the wall two feet from his nose.

'_What was that?' _he wondered, certain he hadn't landed with enough force to be seeing stars. There was a loud smash that dissolved into the tinkling of glass, another metallic burst erupting closer to him, this one red.

"The he–?" The thug was cut off as the butt of a sai came down on his head, sending the world into blackness.

"Nighty night," the red masked turtle said through a self-assured smirk. He whipped around a second later as someone shouted his name.

"Raph!" It was Leo, currently fending off two burglars. He elbowed one and stopped a metal pipe mid-swing. Shoving the attacker off, Leo ordered, "Give Don a hand!"

Raph turned to see Don struggling under the combined assault of three thugs. His aim deadly, Raph grabbed one of the unconventional weapons from his belt and drilled it at one of his brother's antagonists. It collided with his cheek in an explosion of green that glinted in the minimal lighting and the man crumpled, clutching his face. With another solid kick from Donatello, he went down.

"Really, Raph? Christmas balls?" Don enquired when he recognized the shards of shimmering glass on the ground. "Isn't that more of a Mikey thing?"

"Hey!" said turtle squawked in protest, catching his adversary in a headlock.

"What? I can't bust some heads and spread a little Christmas cheer while I'm at it?" Raphael quipped, taking on the assailant not currently being fought by Don. With a grunt, Raph kicked the thug into a metal garbage can, exhaling in triumph when he stayed down.

"Christmas cheer? It's like I don't even know you," Don joked, knocking the last robber out with a final whack of his bo staff.

The alley descended into sudden calm, the four brothers panting lightly as they sheathed their weapons. Yes, another ordinary patrol with an expected conclusion, although it was reached through surprising means.

Spotting a coil of rope resting a few feet from one of the unconscious men, presumably to aid in the robbery, Leo found himself grinning. Gesturing to it, he asked, "Still in the Christmas mood, Raph?"

Raphael followed the green hand and grinned wickedly upon seeing the object of scrutiny.

"Yeah, I guess I can wrap up a few unwanted packages," Raph said, ambling over to the rope. He lifted it and smirked, chuckling in a terrifying parody of Saint Nick, "Ho, ho, ho."

Mikey winced at the harsh sound, barely whispering, "Scariest Santa _ever_."

_So this was a break in the previous nonstop train of cuteness and fluff. I hope you enjoyed, we'll see if I can get more of these done over the next few days.  
Please review!_


	17. Gingerbread

_Disclaimer: The Ninja Turtles are the property of Nickelodeon and Viacom.  
So here's another Advent themed one shot (only seven more to go!). I hope you enjoy some more Mikey shenanigans._

Gingerbread:

"Oh, Leeeeeeeeeeooooooooooo."

Leonardo frowned at his name being called, recognizing the speaker's voice. Mikey.

A summons by his little brother meant one of two things: either Mikey was being hunted by one (or both) of his other siblings; or Dr. Prankenstein was on duty. Based on this, Leonardo knew nothing good could come from whatever it was that Mikey was up to.

The leader heaved a sigh and abandoned his book, pushing off the arm chair to find his little brother.

"Leeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo oo!" the voice was louder this time, drawing out all the vowels in his name. But that wasn't what caused Leo a second of pause; it was the fact that Mikey was calling him from the _kitchen_.

Leo frowned again. If memory served, he was banned from the kitchen for the foreseeable future, most likely until his dying day. Honestly, you set _one _toaster on fire…

Warily, Leo entered the kitchen, wondering what he could have possibly broken. He hadn't touched more than the tea kettle in the past week – under Donatello's strict supervision, of course. He was positive he hadn't ruined anything, unless he could now destroy kitchen appliances with his eyes?

When he saw the carnage of a morning spent baking, Leonardo flinched.

The counter was topped by a wide collection of ingredients. Large bags of flour and sugar were open, the latter laying on its side and spilling its contents onto the once pristine surface. A carton of eggs was propped open by a jug of milk that had been unopened the last time he checked. It was now only half full. A partially used stick of butter lay on a wooden cutting board next to several vials of unknown flavouring, although the brown one he recognized as vanilla upon further inspection. Assorted spice containers were dispersed among the icing bags and the blocks of baking chocolate, all different shade of brown. How Mikey kept them all straight without labels, he'd never know. To top it all off, the entire scene was sprinkled in a light dusting of flour and multi-coloured sprinkles, resembling some kind of psychedelic snow.

If the counter was bad, the sink made Leo positively cringe. Its silver belly was filled to the brim with plastic and metal mixing bowls, each pasty with the dregs of batter or icing. A wooden spoon stuck up from the mound, its end coated in green icing.

Before Leo could open his mouth to lecture Michelangelo about the state of the kitchen, the orange masked turtle eagerly thrust a plate under his nose. Leo went cross eyed trying to keep the tray in his vision, wondering exactly what he was supposed to be looking at.

"I made cookies!" Mikey exclaimed. Ah. That answered that question.

They were cookies, alright; gingerbread, by the smell of it. But even Leo with his limited culinary experience could tell they looked odd. Instead of the neutral standing position that was customary for gingerbread men, these ones had limbs that stuck out at peculiar angles.

"Are those–?" Leo began.

"Ninjabread men? Well yes, indeedy!" Mikey interrupted his brother, clearly pleased with himself.

And it was true: each cookie on the plate was frozen in a different fighting pose, some in the midst of an attack and others in a defensive stance. The ideas Mikey came up with were truly astounding.

"I even decorated some to look like us!" Mikey explained, pointing at each personalized cookie as he named them off, "There's you, and that one's me, Don's the one with the broken foot 'cause he kinda stuck to the pan, and Raph's the fat one!"

Leo fought the smile that tickled the corner of his mouth at that last one. His voice sincere, he praised, "They're great, Mike."

"Thanks, Leo!"

At that moment, Raphael passed through, barely sparing the other two turtles a glance as he made a beeline for the fridge. He swung open the door and stooped down, rummaging around for a snack.

"Raphie!" Mikey shrieked excitedly and Raph's shoulders visibly tensed. He did not take kindly to Mikey's nicknames, _especially_ that one.

"Whaddya want?" he demanded, straightening and slamming the door shut when he didn't find anything that struck his fancy in the refrigerator. In response, Mikey shoved the plate that was previously in Leo's face at Raph, who jerked back instinctively.

"They're ninjabread men!" Mikey explained for the second time, entirely ignoring Raph's question. Mikey jabbed a stubby finger at the lumpy cookie with a red band around its head and indicated, "This one's you, Raph! And that's Leo, Don's right here–"

"Wait," Raph cut him off, his face in a sour frown. "Why am I the fat one?"

"Artistic interpretation, dear brother," Mikey quipped, his eyes gleaming with mirth. "I draw – er, bake what I see."

"Why you little–!" And the pair was off, Mikey dropping his plate in his hurry to escape. Leo dived and caught the plate of cookies just before it hit the floor, dropping only one ninjabread man. A single casualty was nothing when compared to the tragedy of losing all the cookies, as well as the ceramic plate, so Leo was quite content with his quick catch.

He pushed himself off the floor just as Don entered, drawn by both the noise and the scent of the gingerbread. He was clearly bemused but he didn't ask, assessing the situation first. For a moment, he and Leo stood simply watching Mikey and Raph zipping around the lair, the former cackling maniacally while the other roared indistinguishable threats. Finally, Don noticed the plate of cookies balanced on Leo's palm and upon seeing the unflattering representation of Raphael, all became clear.

"Do you think Mikey's keeping inventory?" Don wondered as he plucked one of the ninjabread men from the plate.

"Knowing him, yes," Leo replied evenly, not even turning to look at his brother. He was occupied with watching the chase and was rather impressed when Mikey executed a perfect handspring over the coffee table to create distance between himself and Raphael.

Don shrugged carelessly. "It'll be hard for him to count with one eye swollen shut," he remarked as he amputated one of the ninja's legs with his teeth.

"True enough," Leonardo concurred, helping himself to one of the ninjabread men.

_No joke, one of my classmates brought in ninjabread men while we were studying for finals. It. Was. AWESOME!  
Thanks for reading, and please review!_


	18. Snowman

_Disclaimer: I do not own the TMNT, they are the property of Nickelodeon and Viacom. I also don't own and characters mentioned from Frosty the Snowman.  
This is just two brothers doing a commentary while watching the classic Christmas special. Even if you haven't seen Frosty before, I hope you like it! I challenge you to guess who the two speakers are before you reach the end of the page. MUhahahahahahaHA!  
Ahem. Enjoy!_

Snowman:

"I don't like him."

"What do you mean?" A bemused frown. "Why don't you like Frosty?"

"Because he's a walkin', talkin', singin' snowman! It's unnatural!"

"Aren't humanoid mutant turtles that are trained in the art of ninjutsu and reside in the sewers also considered unnatural?"

"But we actually _exist_. I've never seen a singin' snowman, have you?"

"Well, no–"

"There you go! When you see a singin' snowman, _then_ we can talk about it. Until then, genius, don't correct me."

"I'll keep an eye out for one."

Neither spoke for a few seconds.

"And you creatin' one with all your techno mumbo jumbo _doesn't count._"

"…darn it."

They paused in their dialogue as the portly Frosty comforted the little girl, Karen, who was sobbing. She didn't want her friend Frosty to melt and was doing her best to keep the snowman cold.

"I don't see the harm in Frosty, personally. His character shows no real development, although I suppose that's too much to ask from someone composed of millions of crystalline water molecule structures. Despite his one-dimensional character and his rather dubious origin story, it's a heart-warming tale about friendship. It reminds the viewer that even though some friends have to go before he or she is prepared, the bond of friendship cannot be broken, no matter the distance."

A doubtful look from the other.

"Yes, I am aware that humans have little regard for reality; however, it's still a nice message."

"Still don't like him. He's way too happy about everything and whenever he messes stuff up, he just says 'Oh well' and waddles off to ruin somethin' else! Plus, he's just playin' with all these random kids. Do their parents even know where they are? If not, those are some crummy parents!"

"Of course they don't know! Can you imagine the parents' reaction if their child came home raving about a magic, talking snowman? They'd send them to the school counsellor, or a therapist!"

"Alright, you got a point there. Let's just drop it; we're startin' to sound like Mike."

They fell silent again, watching with mild interest. As the frame zoomed in for a close up of Frosty, Donatello spoke up.

"The eyes creep me out, though."

"That's what I've been sayin'!" Raphael exclaimed as he threw up his hands.

Another pause. Then:

"Should we change the channel?"

"I'm already on it, Don."

_So I guess the boys aren't totally sold on the idea of Frosty. Ah well, all in good fun _XD  
_Thank you for reading, and please review!_


	19. Frozen

_Disclaimer: I own no turtles of the teenage mutant variety! Stop rubbing it in, will you? D:  
Now that that's been taken care of, here's another Advent instalment. Please enjoy!_

Frozen:

It was a tragedy.

A black cloud of lamentation hung over the adolescent residents of the sewer-based home. Grimaces were exchanged instead of smiles, despondent sighs substituted for hellos. The icy grip of cold was felt more keenly, no amount of heating capable of staying the cold that clutched the chests of the mourners.

Yesterday, a loved one was lost. Previously taken for granted, the entity that had watched over them vigilantly was just…gone; a gaping hole stabbed into their tightly-knit lives.

The grieving process was different for each son. Leonardo, as the leader, felt it his duty to remain strong for the others. For this reason, he didn't allow his brothers to see how truly devastated he was by the loss. When not putting on the brave face for his younger brothers, Leonardo sought solace in training, pushing his body until his mind was inaudible over the aching of his muscles. Occasionally, he paused in his endless stream of katas, simply staring into space. The thought of never hearing that beloved voice again practically brought tears to his eyes, and the blue banded turtle would throw himself into his exercises all the more aggressively to drown out the reverberating commands of his hero.

Raphael alternated between beating the punching bag senseless and secluding himself with his pet turtle, Spike. While his anti-social behaviour was not unusual, there was a greater sense of desperation in his wallowing. Silence was the way of this mourner, conversation too great a task in his wretched state. The few sounds that pushed past his pursed lips when he was working on the bag were grunts of exertion and displeasure. Raphael only spoke when he was alone with Spike, and then he merely murmured quiet assurances. He would be okay, he tried to convince himself; they all would. The small creature rested sedately on his palm, tethering the emotionally-challenged sibling to reality. He stroked the beloved pet with an absence of thought, bright green eyes staring blankly into some invisible abyss.

Donatello resigned himself to defeated sighs, confined in his room for most of the morning. The productive teen found it unnerving to be idle but he couldn't bring himself to touch his projects. He drew away from such endeavours, feeling no pride in his technological accomplishments. After all, he hadn't been able to stop what had happened. Oh sure, he could try to placate himself by reasoning that the damage was too great, the patient too far gone; but he felt at fault. Why tinker with pointless gadgets when the unthinkable had happened? The loss rang with hallow mockery and leaving his lab, passing through the dwelling place of the deceased merely brought roguish whispers of failure to his ears. For this reason, he kept himself shut in his room, unwilling to face the accusing glares of his siblings.

Michelangelo was perhaps the most subdued, curled up on the couch and staring into a void. The bright twinkle in his eye was extinguished, leaving dull blue pebbles in their place. He found no solace in the attempts of his brothers to console him, weakly pushing their open arms away and ignoring their whispers of comfort. They knowingly left him alone, for it was no secret that Michelangelo was the most affected by the loss. The young turtle's love and admiration for the deceased was plain and he was terribly shaken by the sudden death. The blow ached with a sharp sense of finality, the blackness closing in on him. He wasn't certain he could recover from such a vital part of his life being torn away from him.

Her arms folded against the cold, April entered the lair with a mild smile on her face, one that swiftly slid off her features when she saw the pitiful scene. He was in the exact same position as yesterday, legs tucked to his chest and his chin propped on his knees.

She briefly noted that none of the others were in sight, as she had seen yesterday on her visit; when they had delivered the shocking news.

None of the turtles had taken the loss well and each was trying to cope to the best of his abilities. They were frozen in time, unable to go back or press forward.

The girl padded over to stand directly in front of Mikey, observing that he didn't show any sign of recognition . Her voice gentle, she encouraged, "Don't look so down, Mikey. Everything will be alright."

The turtle shook his head, refusing to believe her.

"Nothing will ever be alright ever again," he moaned, the crack in his voice indicating he was on the verge of tears.

April rolled her eyes, and huffed an exasperated sigh. Then she raised her voice so all of the brothers could hear her, not doubting for one second that they were eavesdropping.

"Come on guys, it's not the end of the world! The TV is broken, just deal with it!"

_Oh, boys _XD  
_So in case you didn't realize, they are mourning the loss of the television in the dead of winter. It can get fairly boring, I'm sure, being cooped up in the lair in the wintertime when it's freezing and there's little else to do. Not positive they're all in character, but I loved the idea of a fake-out death. You thought it was Splinter, didn't you? Come on, admit it!_

_Ahem. All gloating aside, I'd like to thank you for reading, and please review!_

_Merry Christmas!_


	20. Party

_Disclaimer: Unfortunately, Santa didn't leave any turtles in my stocking, so they still belong to Nickelodeon and Viacom.  
Almost done of the challenge! I'll finish it eventually, I know it!_

Party:

"Hey April, look what I got Leo for Christmas! It's Space Heroes bed sheets!"

"Mikey! Don't go flashing those around to _everybody_!"

A rustling of paper as Donatello unwrapped his last gift.

"Really, Raph? A lightbulb?"

"Yeah, Donnie. For the bathroom since, you know, Mikey broke the overhead light. Merry Christmas!"

"No I didn't! You broke the light in the bathroom Raph."

"Shut up, Mike!"

A scuffle ensued on the floor in front of the Christmas tree, Raphael quickly catching Mikey in a headlock. They proceeded to play Raphael's favourite game, "Does Mikey bend this way?" and it was clear to all present that Mikey did not.

Taking advantage of Mikey's situation, Leo had swiftly shoved his prized bed sheets into an empty gift bag and out of April's sight. After all, bed sheets, much like underwear, were a private thing. One did not lightly reveal them to just _anyone_; especially a girl.

Master Splinter was nursing a steaming cup of tea and observing the chaos from a safe vantage point. And it was just that: chaos. While he found himself disappointed by his sons immature behaviour, he did not complain. He knew he only had himself to blame, for it had been he who had suggested that they celebrate on Christmas Eve with April, as she and her aunt had plans for Christmas Day. Accidentally, the rat Master had called it a party and this was the beginning of the mayhem.

Splinter sipped at his warm beverage as he observed his sons' antics, an absentminded smile touching his face. Raphael had released Michelangelo from the headlock in accordance with the "spirit of Christmas", although not before issuing a noogie and an empty threat. They had abandoned their brawling to gather around April, who was now being given a present from all of the boys.

Each brother had gotten April a gift: Mikey a pair of fuzzy slippers, Raph a training staff for her ninjutsu lessons, Leo a novel and Donatello a newly assembled T-phone, to replace the old one. However, the boys had teamed up to bestow one final gift on their honoured guest. This collaboration warmed Master Splinter's heart, for he believed that teamwork and cooperation were of utmost importance. It was a skill not only necessary in battle, but also in maintaining the ever shifting family dynamic. The Sensei, as well as the father in him, was brimming with pride.

April now sat in the centre of the ring formed by the brothers, waiting patiently for this unexpected gift. Leonardo shoved the nicely wrapped box at her, stating needlessly, "It's from all of us."

"Openitopenitopenitopenit–"

"Shell, April! Would you please just open the thing so Mikey will shut up?" Raph demanded, fighting the urge to slap the hyperactive sibling and cursing the day candy was invented. Mikey had eaten his weight in sugar that day and was getting on Raph's last nerve. If the sugar didn't send the orange banded turtle into a coma, Raphael swore that his fist would.

April smiled and carefully slid a finger under one of the edges of the wrapping paper and removed the tape, recognizing the immaculate wrapping as none other than Don's.

"Just rip it, April!" Mikey encouraged through a ninjabread man, spraying crumbs on Leo. The offended sibling merely pursed his lips and brushed off the crumbs, having more patience than his other brothers.

With the paper out of the way, April opened the lid and peeled aside the tissue paper. Seeing the gift inside, April took in a sharp breath.

"You guys!" she gasped, her mouth turning up at the corners.

Amid the colourful tissue paper was a collage displaying photos of April and the turtles. The large collage was contained in a handmade wooden frame, no doubt Raphael's handiwork. The paint job–green, of course–was clearly done by Mikey, who had taken the liberty of writing amusing phrases such as "Turtle power!" on the frame and painting small versions of each family member's face. The centrepiece of the gift was a family photo of all of them, arms slung over shoulders and smiles all around.

"I love it!" she gushed, hugging Leonardo, who happened to be the closest turtle. "Thanks so much!"

Although he wouldn't let on, Donatello was miffed that April had so quickly flung her arms around Leo. He primly cleared his throat and piped up, "I rigged up the camera and developed the photos!"

April smiled knowingly at Don and wrapped her arms around him next in gratitude. Once she pulled away from the blushing turtle, she hugged an enthusiastic Michelangelo and a grumbling Raphael.

Master Splinter smiled from his seat on the couch, remembering the joy of such occasions with his past family. Watching his four – no, _five_ children sharing a moment was a priceless gift. He wondered why they didn't do this sort of gathering more often.

Michelangelo shortly reminded him.

"HARK! THE HERALD–"

"Mikey, that's too loud!"

"–ANGELS SING, GLORY TO THE NEWBORN–"

"Really, Mikey–"

"–KING! PEACE ON EARTH AND MERCY–"

"Shut _up, _Mikey!"

Splinter sighed inwardly.

There would be no more parties, he concluded. And no more sugar for Michelangelo.

_Oh, so __**that's **__why they don't have parties. Makes sense, I guess…  
I'm sooooo close to finishing this thing, which will be the second story I've ever finished. Hurrah!  
I hope you enjoyed this one-shot and that you will review. Thanks for reading!_


	21. Ice & Tea

_Disclaimer: I do not own the turtles, they are the property of Nickelodeon and Viacom.  
So…the advent challenge is still on! YAY!  
Because we are getting further and further away from Christmas, I have decided to take the final four prompts and divide them into pairs. This one will be "Ice and Tea", while the next will be "Rest and Love". I hope you enjoy them!_

Ice & Tea:

"Here's another blanket, Leo," Raphael heard Don say from inside the eldest brother's room.

"Thanks," Leo responded through a shiver, the smile audible in his voice.

Raph stood awkwardly outside the doorway to Leo's bedroom, a mug of tea balanced on the tray in his hands. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, wrestling with himself. Should he or shouldn't he go in to see Leo? On the one hand, he was at fault for what happened, even though it had been unintentional. How could Raph have known that there was a ledge of ice below the calm surface of that pool of water he pushed Leo into, or that his brother would hit his head off of it and be knocked out? It was Raph who had dived in and dragged his big brother's unconscious body to the brick platform amid Don's panicked shouts and Mikey's tearful whimpers. Don had checked Leo's vitals and confirmed he was alive and well, merely unconscious. Raphael felt he owed something to Leo for the whole fiasco.

On the other hand, Leo was probably furious with him for being so reckless and wouldn't want to see him. Whether on purpose or by accident, Raph had seriously injured his brother by shoving him into the water and Raph felt he deserved a severe punishment. What would have happened had he not gotten Leo out of the icy water in time…

Raphael didn't even want to consider it.

Although he would vehemently deny it, Raph was the most concerned out of his brothers upon the rare occasion that Leo got hurt. While Don and Mikey took it for granted that Leo would be alright – he was _Leo_, after all – Raphael knew better. He knew Leo was just as susceptible to wounds as the rest of them, if not more so due to his irritating habit of stepping between his siblings and any bad guy who took a swipe at them. That was Leo's style, being the fearless leader and all.

"Raph?"

The turtle in question started at his name, whirling on Donatello. Completely consumed by his musings, Raph hadn't even heard Don coming up behind him.

Don's face went from bemusement to understanding when he saw the mug Raphael bore and smelled the distinct aroma of green tea. From past experience with Mikey, Don knew the offering of a warm beverage was Raph's way to express how sorry he was. Donatello smiled softly at Raph, touched by his temperamental brother's show of remorse.

"I think he wants to see you," Don said, inclining his head toward Leo's doorway. When Raph gave no indication of moving from his place, the purple banded brother patted his shoulder and encouraged gently, "Go on."

With a deep breath through his nose, Raphael stepped into the room, fearing the worst.

Leo's head snapped up at Raph's entrance and the hothead flinched minutely at the motion. To his surprise, Leo's face broke into a grin and he greeted hoarsely from his mound of quilts, "Hey, Raph! I thought you'd avoid me forever."

Raphael frowned, confused by Leo's warm welcome. Didn't Leo hate Raph for nearly killing him? It was no secret that Leo was lucky to have received only a case of the chills, a bump on the head and a very mild concussion from the accident. The damage could have been far worse.

"I, uh…" Raphael trailed off as he approached the bed, his eyes on the floor. Words failed him at the moment, for he was thrown by Leo's attitude. After a few uncomfortable seconds, Raph finally settled on mumbling, "I brought you some tea."

He thrust the tray at Leo when he drew up to his brother's bedside, still eluding his eyes. Leo smiled, knowing instantly that this was Raph's way of apologizing. Not that Leo was angry at his brother – he had provoked Raph by shoving him playfully when they were near the edge of the pool, so he was just as much at fault as Raph. No, Leo forgave Raph for the incident, as it had been an accident.

Besides, Leo also knew that Raph had jumped in to save him; Don had filled Leo in on that part once he was fully awake and aware. Since then, he had been visited by all of his family members except for Raph. Leonardo had patiently waited for two days, hoping his brother would come so he could demonstrate to Raph that he harboured no resentment toward him.

"Thanks," Leo said as he graciously took the tea and sipped it. Warmth spread through his chest and Leo knew it had nothing to do with the lukewarm tea. His eyes flicking up to Raph's face, he added more seriously, "Thank you for everything."

Raph caught the significance of those four words and frowned, his distress furrowing his brow. Searching for words, Raph began to say, "Leo, I'm really sorry. I don't know–"

Leo halted him with a raised hand, his expression placid. In a voice that emanated kindness, he responded, "It's okay, Raph. We're okay,"

Raph was silent for a moment, processing Leo's acceptance of his unvoiced apology. He had no idea how his brother knew exactly what he was going to say before he even spoke but he was thankful for Leo's innate instincts. Maybe that was why Splinter chose Leo to be leader, he thought to himself, and for once the idea didn't make Raphael's rage flare. He recognized this strength in his brother – this compassion and mercy his Sensei had mentioned to him many times. Looking down at his bedridden brother, bruised and trembling with cold, Raphael found he had never felt more respect for Leo.

When next Raph spoke, his voice was so low Leo almost missed it:

"I love you, man."

Leo smiled and reached out to grip his younger sibling's forearm.

"I love you too, bro."

* * *

_Ohhhhhhhhhhh, the feeeeeeeeels _3  
_I decided another Leo and Raph moment was in order, this time more a hurt/comfort idea as opposed to a ninja tag team thing. I don't know, I just thought it was cute.  
Thanks for reading, and please review! ONE MORE TO GO!_


	22. Rest & Love

_Disclaimer: I own no turtles, let alone fictional, adolescent ninja ones. I just have a ridiculously large cat who likes to shed. A LOT.  
Well, here's the last Advent prompt (Seriously, February? I am ashamed…) It's a combination of "Rest" and "Love". I hope you enjoy this terribly late and slightly unfestive instalment!_

Rest and Love:

The remnants of the previous night's merriments was a sight to behold, a mess of silly string, board game pieces, empty cups, streamers, various snack foods and confetti coating the floor. Helium balloons that had once bobbed merrily at eye level now drooped and skulked across the floor when agitated by the air, resembling rainbow-colored tumbleweeds. At the centre of the mess were four slumbering figures, so tangled they formed a mound that rose and fell at irregular intervals with their breath.

Master Splinter, refreshed after a good sleep, padded silently toward the pile of turtles on the floor of the pit, not wanting to disturb his snoozing sons.

The boys had, despite their father's warning, insisted upon staying up the entire night to ring in the New Year. Since the time-honoured tradition of watching the New Year's Eve festivities on their flickering television set was rendered impossible due to the passing of the old appliance (Michelangelo still wore a black arm band in mourning), the teens decided to have their own Times' Square celebration in the lair.

Even after Miss O'Neil's departure at 11:00 – she had a curfew to observe – the party continued. The four boys managed to sustain themselves on a combination of caffeine, sugar and each other's energy until the wee hours of the morning. Now, they were paying for their partying. The four brothers had all dozed off at some point after 5:00am, dropping out of their whispered conversation one by one. They had haphazardly arranged themselves atop each other, still fully clothed and wound up in blankets.

Splinter paused once he was a few steps from the turtle heap and smiled fondly, reminiscing about when his sons were much younger and would sleep curled up together in his small nest. Then, their pudgy arms and legs would wrap around the closest object – whether a blanket, pillow or brother's limb – and Michelangelo's snoring would slice through the air, punctuated by the occasional dream-induced whimper from Donatello or Raphael. Contrastingly, Leonardo had slept in almost perfect silence, so still it was impossible to tell by sight alone if he was breathing.

Few things had changed since then. Michelangelo still snored loudly enough to wake up the entire East Side, Donatello mumbled scientific monologues in his sleep, Leonardo slept deadly still, and Raphael often drooled. In fact, a thin trail of saliva was presently trickling from the corner of his mouth onto the top of Donatello's plastron, which the hothead was using for a pillow. Donatello, unaware of the liquid collecting in the ridges of his upper plastron, lay on his carapace, one arm splayed out above his head while the other rested lazily over Leonardo's rounded shell. The eldest son, still sporting his blue mask, had fallen asleep plastron down, his cheek squished against Donatello's stomach. The leader's hand rested on his taller brother's kneecap, his opposite arm stretched to its full length across Donatello's lateral plane. This uncomfortable sleeping position was courtesy of Michelangelo, who had a vice grip on Leonardo's wrist. The youngest, Splinter was amused to see, had snuggled up against Raphael, his head wedged into the niche between Raphael's shoulder and neck.

Warmth swelled in the old rat's chest as he regarded his sons, taking advantage of the precious moment to closely observe his children without interruption or complaints.

They were growing up, now in their teens and pushing for independence at every opportunity. While Master Splinter maintained his authority over the four young ninja, he knew there would come a day when he would no longer exert this power. Hamato Splinter would have to let his students go. They would have to face the world on their own, exercising all the skills they had honed under his critical, practiced eye. The Sensei in him understood this, anticipating the day with an equal measure of concern and pride.

But Master Splinter was more than a Sensei. He was a father, who was afraid of the simultaneously beautiful and dark world above that fascinated his sons. Having spent many decades as a human himself, Splinter – Yoshi, he often reminded himself – was no stranger to the flaws of the world. He trusted his sons, knowing they were brilliant, talented, kind-hearted individuals…but would it be enough? The world, Splinter acknowledged, was an unforgiving place, differences often met with adversity, hatred and fear. Fear of what is unfamiliar and an ignorance toward things not understood.

Splinter knew fear. He feared that his sons would be crushed by the darkness of certain humans, emotionally unprepared for the bleak reality awaiting them above ground.

As adolescents, his boys could show great maturity one moment and seem entirely child-like the next. Their innocence was, in certain respects, something that Splinter admired; however, it raised concerns for his sons' wellbeing. There would come a time when his sons would rush off to face danger, returning with wounds that could not be healed with medical supplies, soothing words or a fatherly kiss on the brow. Spiritual wounds that would tear at their souls.

At that moment, Splinter was snapped out of his reverie by the sudden absence of Michelangelo's incessant snoring. The young turtle arched himself in a sleepy-stretch, swiftly bending back into Raphael's side and nuzzling his brother subconsciously. In response, Raphael's hand lightly batted at the leech's snout, his movements sloppy and anaemic in his sleep-drunk state.

The father exhaled in a sigh, the corners of his mouth turning up in a faint smile. That morning was not the time to worry about what was to come; it was the time to find joy in his beautiful family. He did not want to take for granted this second chance at parenthood for a single second.

Splinter closed the gap between himself and his sons, kneeling to the ground. Slipping effortlessly into father mode, he adjusted Donatello's blanket so it draped over the majority of his gangly form, suppressing a chuckle as the purple banded turtle sleepily muttered something about enthalpy. With a gentle thumb swipe, the leaking corner of Raphael's mouth was clean, the previously constant stream of saliva stayed for the moment. Master Splinter stood and retrieved Michelangelo's teddy bear from its place at his son's feet, tucking the worn toy into the crook of Michelangelo's arm. Finally, he circled the heap and carefully removed the party hat donning Leonardo's head, his hand replacing the lopsided attire for a few seconds.

Leonardo was most definitely exhausted – his usually light-sleeping son was entirely unaware of his touch.

As he withdrew his hand and absorbed the sight of his sons peacefully sleeping together, Hamato Splinter whispered lovingly, "Rest well, my sons."

_And…Done! *collapses in a heap with the sleeping turtles*  
I know this is a slightly heavy final chapter, but I was dying for a serious Daddy Splinter moment sandwiched by turtle cuteness. _

_Thanks to all who read these, I really appreciate the reviews! Special thanks goes out to TimidBookworm, zrexheartz, weirdsib, PenAndInkPrincess, madagascarmaster, and beautiful-sadness for the continuous support!_

_I guess there's nothing left to do except wish you all a happy Valentine's Day! It's a good thing there isn't a challenge for that too, or I'd never get any work done!_


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